Eye to Eye
by OreoAddict
Summary: After Solomon's Temple, Malik is forced to aide Altair in redeeming himself, when a local thief accidentally stumbles on to the scene. With no place for the young man at Masyaf, will Malik be able to handle the extra stress of being a teacher while dealing with his own emotions and grief of the loss of his brother?
1. Chapter 1

The streets of Jerusalem were crowded and noisy, so noisy in fact, by the time the assassin noticed it, the street fight was almost over. A young boy, maybe about 14, had been caught pick pocketing by a handful of templar guards. Despite being out numbered he was putting up an impressive struggle. Altair watched for a moment then nimbly leapt from his current perch, the overhang of a roof, to the next for a better view. The boy was cornered by the three men, who were demanding he pass the money over to them and they would return it to the merchant he'd stolen it from. The boy said nothing but with what appeared to be a piece of broken pottery the boy darted forward toward a small opening between them. The closet guard reached for him but the boy didn't flinch instead he thrust the pottery into the man's out stretched hand driving it into his palm and out the back of his hand. Blood splashed the boys hand and the guards vest. The guard yelped and jumped back ripping out the jagged piece, releasing more blood. In his haste he backed into the second and they toppled backwards over a stall breaking more pottery and de-shelving others. The third pursued the boy leaving his injured and dumbfounded accomplishes behind. He shouted obscenities after the fleeing boy, who never looked back. Altair followed the chase from above. The boy was quick and it took every bit of Altair's attention. The boy ducked in and out of crowds and down alleyways turning right and left hurtling over crates and boxes, vaulting live stalk and scattering women and men alike. The two had long since lost the remaining pursuer and yet the boy kept running. He seemed determined to lose some non-existent shadow. The boy stumbled and caught himself and for half a second, placing his hand palm down on the ground for support as they made eye contact. He bounced back up straight and pushed forward again, this time harder and faster. Altair had seen fear on the boys face.

The boy was entering the poor district the rooftops weren't as well maintained here and some simply didn't exist making Altair's chase even more difficult. Not far up ahead the boy did as expected, seeing the next four houses caved in; he made an abrupt left turn for them out of Altair's vision, which forced him to jump across the street. Altair dropped from the rooftops and down into an alley. It was dead empty except at the end the boy had stopped and taken a defensive stance, ready for the fight he assumed was coming. Altair walked deeper into the back alley. The boy tensed when Altair didn't

stop. He was wearing a soiled white tunic and brown pants, his boots caked with mud and in bad need of repair. His forehead was covered by a green bandana that revealed medium length, messy, dirty, light brown hair, it might even be lighter, and longer if it was clean.

"What do you want," he yelled. What did Altair want? He had followed the boy out of

curiosity but then why had he come this far? Altair raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, but the boy didn't let his guard down. He watched Altair take a couple more steps toward him.

"I mean no harm," that was about the only thing he could produce.

"Then why did you follow me!"

"I was curious."

"Of what?""To see if you would make it out alive," at least it was half true, he assured himself.

"And," the boy demanded wanting Altair's motives "What are you going to kill me and take the money, now, because I don't have it!"

"Oh, I think you're lying." Altair pointed to the puddle to the boys left. There had been an odd shimmer in the water and several ripples that seemed a touch peculiar for an empty back alley.

"I-I I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered trying to keep his composure.

Altair moved closer, taking slow deliberate steps. The boy's eyes shifted from him to the water. Altair picked his pace up, walking in a more normal speed. The boy kept Altair in his front, turning as Altair moved first next to him then behind. He matched Altair's paces, never once letting his guard falter. He was lean, as most children were in the poor district, and clearly no match for Altair, even with a weapon. His hands were filthy and covered in cuts, scrapes, dirt, and blood. His right eye was brown but encircled by blues, greens, and purples, a black eye probably for what seemed like insubordination

to whoever inflicted it on him. The brown eyes bore into him harder with every step. Altair bent and retrieved the coins from the water. He held his hand out offering the boy the coins and a view of his missing finger. Hesitantly, the boy took the coins and placed them back in the sack they'd come in, keeping eye contact the whole while. Altair was impressed by the boy staring him down. He'd taken on three guards and was now standing less than five feet from a master assassin, or former master he reminded himself.

"What's your name," the boy asked, sizing Altair up and lowering his guard, after finally

deciding the assassin wasn't a threat. Altair smirked. He wasn't about to give his name to just anyone.

"What," the boy snarled, "Stop smiling and answer my question," but Altair didn't reply he strolled out of the alley and in to the main street. This street was also mostly empty minus a few beggars and drunks here and there. The houses were run down and shabby, the streets filled with mud and who knows what else. Altair headed in the general direction of the Assassin's Bureau. He was hoping to string the boy along and eventually totally lose him, in the mean time he was going to let him tag along. He heard the boy run out of the alleyway stopping. When the boy spotted him several yards down

the road he pretended to be casually blending into the crowd as if he'd forgotten. Altair grinned when the young man failed miserably, and was shoved away by a drunk, who began screaming incoherently. _Trial by fire_ Altair thought.

He took the next left and charged the wall running half way up it before pushing off he spun and caught the roof behind him and pulled himself up. He took several steps from the edge and looked for the boy. In panic the boy had darted down the alley only to find it empty. He paused looking up and down the alleyway. What he did next surprised Altair forcing him to quickly sprint away several buildings. It was going to be a lot harder than he anticipated. The kid jumped up the side of the first wall and hung there before pulling himself up then vaulted the alleyway to the next building and pulling himself up. He was too short and weak, from poor or lack of proper nutrition, to mimic Altair

completely. The boy perched on the taller of the two buildings and began scanning the roof tops for any sign of the older man but he was gone.

Altair had found a roof top garden and hid inside for several minutes. He twiddled his thumbs and listened to the sounds below. He watched the cloth covering the garden flap out of sync with the wind, from his hasty entrance. Down below the streets were slightly busier here since they were just outside the boarder of the poor district market. He listened for a while waiting for any sign the boy might have spotted Altair's startled retreat. The garden was small just big enough for him to curl up in or for two people to stand in comfortably. The wood was dry wrought from lack of care and the plants had long since died, due to prolonged heat and lack of water. When he dictated enough time had passed for the boy to lose interest in his search, Altair left his safety and returned to the streets. The sun was hot as usual and only made worse by his proximity to the people. The street smelled of live stock filth and human body odor. He stuck to the crowds of people moving to and from, making his way back slowly to the bureau, and to the cruel words that he often found there, knowing he deserved them a thousand times over.

The sun had long since passed its peak when he finally arrived at the rooftop entrance and it had been hours since he had last seen the young man that had distracted him from his mission. He stopped just before dropping into the entrance and took in a deep breath, bracing for the scornful man awaiting his already announced arrival. He didn't really have a reason for returning. He was supposed to be researching a target but had been distracted very easy all day. The boy hadn't been his only source

of entertainment but he wasn't going to tell any of this to Malik. He was returning empty handed, something that was probably going to bring more scorn from Malik. He stalled a few more moments; he adjusted his robes, pulled his cowl farther down, and listened to the fountain trickling below him. Finally, after making much noise, he dropped below and walked inside.

"Have you found what you were looking for," Malik didn't take his eyes from his map; instead he continued to sketch in black ink, he already knew based on Altair's prolonged

entrance.

"No," Altair said solemnly.

"Then what are you standing around for," Malik shouted slamming the quill into the vial of ink and looking up. "Be gone, Novice!" Malik demanded using his one hand to shoo the man in white. Altair stared back straight faced. He turned towards the door and then back, he opened his mouth to speak. Malik had returned to his map, cursing under his breath. Altair paused and shook his head, changing his mind. He could feel his heart lurch, it was his own fault his former friend hated him now and there wasn't anything that was ever going to change that. Apologizing now would only encourage his anger

more. Altair knew he had to prove how much he regretted his actions and what he had learned from them. He doubted the hate would ever fade, and that was the worse than any punishment the Grand Master could give him. Sometimes he wished he had fallen to the fate of traitor than face his dejected friend. He began towards the doorway in which he'd come but stopped at the sound of a slight thud. The fountain trickled slightly but he could just barely make out someone trying to muffle exhausted pants. He looked over his shoulder and found Malik looking at the entrance confused; clearly he wasn't

expecting anyone.

"What do you want," Malik called from behind the desk. The person inhaled and choke, startled. Altair walked out the door and found the young boy bent over, back against the wall hand over his mouth. His hair was drenched in sweat and his tunic was stuck to his chest. Seeing Altair his hand dropped to his side and he began panting again.

"Who is it," Malik snarled shouldering Altair out of the way to get pass him. "Who are

you? Why are you hear?" The boy shook his head in response still too out of breath to answer and simply pointed to Altair. Malik's eyes flared and he rounded on Altair. "What have you done now? Why would you bring him here? Have you lost your mind?" Each question was punctuated by another step toward Altair, who had to admit, he was scared. He remembered a phrase; Hell hath no 'Fury like a woman's scorn,' why did that apply here? He stepped backward, trying to stay out of reach; Allah only knew what Malik might try the man felt he had nothing to lose anymore. Altair put his palms up in

defense.

"I thought I lost him hours ago," he pleaded, trying to sound unafraid.

"Clearly you're wrong."

"It's just a kid!"

"He could be templar spy!"

"Pickpocket."

"You don't know it could be a front."

"He can barely stand," Altair gestured towards the boy, who responded by standing up straighter.

"I followed you all the way here," the boy exclaimed, offended.

"See! He has enough skill to follow you, not that it requires much," Malik pointed out as if it proved himself correct.

"Shush, before you get us both killed," Altair growled over Malik's shoulder to the boy who had stood up some and stopped panting.

"You're right, I should kill you both," Malik said going for his knife in his blue Dia's robes and brandishing it for both the boy and Altair to see. The boy cringed and began looking at the wall he had just come down, plotting his escape.

"You won't," Altair said calmly, lowering his hands and staring into Malik's rage filled dark brown eyes. "That would be direct disregard for the creed," that struck a nerve and Altair knew he'd recalled both hurt and common sense to the man. Malik lowered the knife and frowned.

"Forget the Creed! You did! Killing my brother and taking my left arm! Flaunting your lack of skill and discipline for the whole world to see."

"But you are not the type for revenge, brother."

"Don't call me brother," Malik turned his head and spat as he sheathed the knife. Altair had put all his attention on Malik trying to pull the man back to his senses and had missed the boy's weakened attempt at trying to scale the wall back out. He went up and then feel landing on his butt with a groan of pain and exhaustion. The Malik turned to the boy. "Why did you follow him," he asked sternly.

"Because he didn't answer my question," the boy remained sitting on the ground.

"And why were you talking to him?"

"He followed me."

"Go inside and sit on the cushions in the corner while I decide what to do with you."

"If it's that big of a deal I can just leave," he stood and made another attempt at scaling the wall. Malik grabbed the back of the boys sweat soaked tunic and pulled him back down, forcing him to crumple to the floor again. He landed with another groan.

"No, now do as I said, or I'll kill you now," Malik demanded, pushing him toward the doorway. The boy stood and limped his way inside the bureau. Once inside Malik grabbed Altair and forced him as far away from the door as possible, not wanting another argument Altair let himself be dragged. Malik hissed every word, making sure the boy couldn't hear the two, "And what do you propose we do with him?"

"I don't know." Altair admitted.

"How did he follow you?"

"I don't know," he didn't truth be told Altair never even sensed the boy and it had been hour sense he left the safety of the rooftop garden. There was no way the boy had seen him getting inside, and it was highly unlikely he was still wondering aimlessly around when Altair left. "Perhaps he saw the cloth covering the garden swaying and assumed I was in there and waited?" Malik eyed him for a moment then finally let go of Altair's robes.

"That doesn't solve the problem at hand. I don't think I have the nerve to end him just because he stumbled in here. I'll send a pigeon to the master tonight, asking him what I should do with boy. Perhaps the master would like him within the brotherhood he does have skill, but in the mean time I can't let him run off. If he was to be caught by the templar's he may want to bargain his way out." Malik was talking more to himself than Altair.

"Keep him; make him run errands for you, make use of him while you have him," Altair suggested.

"Best thought you've had in a while Novice," he turned away from Altair, holding is head level and assuming a sense of power as he entered the bureau, Altair not even a step behind.

"What's your name," Malik demanded. The boy was sitting on the cushions as instructed, engulfed in curiously of the large collections of maps, books, and scrolls that surrounded him. He hadn't heard the two assassins enter the room and half jumped to his feet full attention pulled back to the two men, when Malik spoke. He looked tired, probably from chasing Altair for hours. His shirt was sticking to his skin in several places. His bandana had been adjusted, because it was too neat to have stayed the

whole way. He shifted himself around to face the two men head on.

"Tanis," he said in almost a whisper, still in shock from the abrupt entrance but otherwise comfortable with his surroundings.

"Well, Tanis, since I can't let you leave, you are to remain here as my errand boy until I

hear from my master as to what is to be done with you."

"Why are we making a big deal about this," the boy clearly knew he was in over his head and had made a rather large miscalculation in following Altair.

"The less you know, for now, the better," Altair assured him.

"Can I at least get names?"

"My name is Malik and this is Altair," Malik said gesturing respectively. "Now, out of my sight Novice," he said shooing Altair from the bureau, "And do not return until you have done as assigned." He waved his hand as if dismissing Altair and returned to his desk. Altair rolled his eyes in response and lazily made his way from the bureau. The last thing he heard as he reached the rooftop was the boy asking where Altair was going and Malik's reply curt reply, "hush boy."

Altair had no intention of returning to his unfinished work and Malik knew it, besides it was getting late in the evening. He stood hunched over his desk drawing out the last of the map he'd been working on for weeks now. Tanis, the lost puppy, sat across the room watching him, it made him nervous to be the center of attention. His shoulders were tense and he was afraid he would a make a mistake. He became agitated and placed the quill back in the ink vial.

"What," he finally asked.

"What are you doing," the boy asked looking as if he wanted to stand and come see for himself.

"Work."

"What are you drawing," Tanis' voice took on a slightly serious tone.

"A map."

"Why?"

"That is what I do."

"So, you draw maps and keep records," the boy asked looking around the room. It was empty except for the cushions he sat on, Malik's desk the shelves behind it. An arch way led to the next room, Malik's sleeping courters, and a small wooden door led into his records room. What little bit of light was in the room came from candles and the doorway to the court yard outside. "Pretty much," Malik said going back to sketching. He wanted to get this map done. If he did that would mean he could take a day off tomorrow before beginning the next set of desk work the master sent him. The parchment was held down by a stone on one corner and the elbow of the hand he was drawing with. He had struggled with the lack of a second hand but he was finally able to function without spewing curses every other

minute. Sometimes he could feel his hand and would reach for the ink bottle only to be denied its touch, the first few times he been stricken with grief and refused to continue work for the day. Sometimes his shoulder would burn uncontrollably for no reason. He knew the boy was watching him again he could feel it. His shoulders hunched and his hand twitched just above the parchment. He toyed with the idea of taking a break and entertaining the child, but he was so close. He felt Tanis watching him and wondered if the boy had any idea what was going through Malik's head. As if Tanis knew exactly what was going on, he spoke.

"Can I ask you who your master is?"

"Al-Mualim," Malik broke, he set the quill in the vial of black ink and looked up.

"Are you done?"

'Not quite, but I'm taking a break."

"Good," and Malik saw a mischievous grin appear across his face, similar to the one Altair often had when they were children. He raised his eyebrow and watched. "Are you and Altair, spies or something?"

"Close, Assassins."

"Right," he eyed Malik suspiciously, "and these books," he nodded his head towards Malik's shelves.

"Yes?"

"Can I read them?"

"You can read," Malik was honestly astonished, but the Tanis looked offended.

"Of course I can read! He who does nothing to educate himself should do nothing at all,"

Tanis quoted something Malik had never heard before.

"And, who taught you that?"

"My dad," Tanis looked serious, and mildly pissed. Malik leaned farther on to the desk and sighed.

"Yes, you may read them." Tanis stood and wondered behind the desk, he wasn't

limping anymore, and began scanning the shelves. He pulled one off and opened to the middle and read a few lines. Malik wondered how much the boy would understand them.

"These are about the other assassins, and what they did," he flipped to the front of the book and began reading from there. He slowly made his way back to his cushions and plopped down engulfed in the book. Malik groaned and stretched, there went his break but at least he wasn't being watched anymore. He retrieved his pen and began drawing again.

The hours passed in silence and before Malik noticed it had become completely dark outside. Malik set his quill back in the ink jar and stretched. His blue robes lay limp where his missing arm had been sewed. He scratched his head and looked outside. He wondered where Altair was now, probably sleeping at an Inn or hiding in a hay stack. Malik didn't actually refuse to let him sleep here; just implied Altair would be unwelcome. Tanis was still awake reading by a candle he had snuck from Malik's shelf. He was a little more than half way done with it, was that a stack? He had somehow

acquired several more books and was currently reading a new one. He had two set off to his right and at least three more at his left. The candle was burning very low and would soon run out completely, but the boy was still reading none the less.

"Hey, why don't you give me your clothes so I can wash them," Malik suggested friendly. Tanis turned his head toward Malik but his eyes still on the page. He read for a few more seconds, finishing a sentence and fully looked at Malik.

"Wash them?"

"Yes and you can go bathe and have some of my old clothes. They'll be a little big but at least clean." The boy stared at Malik confused, but considering the offer.

"Um, thank you," Tanis still seemed confused. Malik walked around his desk and into the room without a door. He was gone several minutes before returning with an armful of clothing for Tanis.

"Here, the Hammam should still be open, it isn't too late to get a good bathing before bed," he said passing the clothes to the boy. Tanis took them, holding them up for examination. He had been given a white tunic, black pants and red sash; the outfit seemed to strangely match the one Malik was already wearing. "If you don't come back, Altair will hunt you down and end you right then, no questions asked. Our brotherhood is far too important to have you disclose any information." He warned. Tanis looked down at his current outfit.

"Don't worry; I don't really have anywhere or any reason to go, and if you are going to clothe me then hell, I might stick around a while," he gestured towards his body, "What you see is what you get.""Do you need money? You should probably get food while you're out; I don't really keep enough around for two."

"No, what I managed to steal today should be good enough. The guy was wealthier than he looked. Probably to avoid people like me," and with that Tanis thanked Malik once again and left. Malik waited until he couldn't hear the boy anymore then began packing up his finished map to be saved for reference later.

The place was quiet and it wasn't long before his thoughts returned to the times before his little brother's death. He was ashamed at the fact he'd not been able to save him, his little brother who always ran crying to Malik whenever a problem arouse. When they were little and Altair had free

time, he would join them, often making jokes and teasing the younger assassin, who would look to his brother for defense. Malik didn't always cooperate though. He smiled remembering a time that seemed almost surreal now. It was late spring and the days were warm but not hot, not yet anyways. Malik was sitting on the wooden fence that separated the training grounds from the rest of the court yard. Kadar and Altair were bickering not far off. Altair had pulled Kadar's hair a little too hard for play. Kadar's eyes had filled the tears, none spilled over, but prompted name calling from Altair. Kadar's face got red and he lunged at Altair who danced out of reach, laughing. Kadar's face got redder. He screamed at Altair. Altair laughed harder and dodged Kadar's reach.

"I'm not a cry baby, you're rude," he bellowed and it echoed off the walls of the fortress. When it bounced back Kadar stopped in a half punch, at Altair's face. Kadar might have actually landed a hit if he hadn't stopped. He was shocked that he had made such a racket. The window to the Grand Master's tower opened and the master himself appeared.

"No, you're not Kadar, you're a screaming banshee," the Master replied sending Altair and Malik into a fit of giggles. Kadar's face paled and his cheeks turned pink.

"So-sorry master," he lowered his head like a scolded puppy. He looked ashamed for being called out and angry his brother had laughed. He fiddled with his hands and didn't make eye contact. The master closed his window and Kadar's eyes finally broke dam. Tears fell on to the grass at his feet and his hands shook. Malik could see his fists, small compared to Malik and Altair's, shaking at his sides.

"Oh, Kadar, come now. You know Altair was only playing," Malik cooed. He hopped off the fence placing his book between his arm and chest and one hand on Kadar's shoulder. Altair stopped grinning and walked over to Kadar. Malik new Kadar was embarrassed; he wasn't like Altair who was loud and annoying at times. He wasn't use to being chastised. Kadar was quiet, innocent and always willing to please, the complete opposite. Altair stepped closer and went to place a hand on Kadar's head.

"Kadar, I was," he was cut short by a punch square to the face. He stumbled backwards holding his nose, blood dripping from under his hand. Altair's eyes wide with shock began filling with tears of pain. Malik gasped. Kadar looked up grinning. Altair pulled his hand away from his nose to reveal it broken; blood ran down his mouth to his chin and dripped on to his grey tunic. Kadar laughed. Altair looked concerned at first then he two began laughing. Malik stood silent, sincerely bewildered.

"That's cheating," Altair laughed.

"All is fair in war," Kadar scoffed, still grinning smugly.

"No, It wasn't fair for you to die for our mistakes," Malik said coming back to the present.

To his right a candle was burning and he blew it out. "No need to waste them," he began wondering the room blowing out candle after candle, until the only light that remained was that of the moon shinning in from above.

Altair sat on top of a tower overlooking the city. He was broke, no way he couldn't afford an Inn even for one night and he wasn't about to waste an Inn keeps source of income. Not when the people where already desperate. He'd stay up in the tower for tonight. It was much cooler with the sun down; the stars and the moon were beautiful tonight anyways. He watched the city slowly die with each minute the sun was gone. Candles had begun to burn in windows as people retreated inside for the night. From here he could see most of Jerusalem. He sat on the very edge of the tower wall his feet

hanging freely hundreds of feet above the quiet city. It was eerie how noisy the city was during the day only to have absolute silence at night. He lay down on the wall letting the tail of his robes dangle over the side flowing in the breeze. He watched the people still wondering the streets. Below a mother was ushering her children inside and a young man was walking down the street. The only people awake on the street and so they called Altair's attention. He watched, wondering what they were saying. A little girl came sprinting down an alley and up to the woman. The woman began scolding her that he

could make out because her motions were erratic. The mother began leading the child inside by the hand leaving the young man alone on the street. The young man didn't pay them any attention. He simply kept walking, hands in his pockets. He was wearing a white tunic with black pants and boots. A red sash tied around his waist. Altair strained his eyes trying to make out the young man's face but couldn't. He could have sworn those were Malik's clothes, but the left arm wasn't sewn in half. Altair sat up and crept towards the edge of the tower. The young man seemed to be in a good mood walking calmly as if he was in no hurry to arrive anywhere. Who was that and why was he wearing assassin's robes?

Altair looked down spotting a hay cart at the bottom of the tower, and so, he leapt. Spreading his arms out wide and feeling the breeze in his face. He plummeted to the ground as he flipped himself over landing softly on his back in the hay. He sprang quickly from the cart and trotted down the street after the man. He hadn't gotten far. Altair could hear him singing an Arabic lullaby quietly to himself. The young man turned and looked at Altair, who could have sworn he'd been completely silent. The young man was actually just a boy. His light brown hair hung slightly damp, green bandana missing. Tanis eyed him suspiciously. His face was clean and his hands seemed paler than their first encounter.

"What, does Malik, really not trust me at all," Tanis asked, "I haven't even been gone two hours."

"What?"

"So have you come to drag my ass back to the bureau?"

"No," Altair wondered what crawled into the young boy's hummus and died, "Where'd you get those clothes?"

"Huh," Tanis looked down and then back up to Altair, "Malik gave them too me, said I needed a bath, can't blame him."

"Then are you returning to the bureau, now?"

"Not yet, I was also instructed to find food. However, the hammam and market aren't, relatively speaking, close, and it's extremely late."

"Well come on, I know a fig orchard. We can bring Malik back some as well," Altair turned and walked the opposite way, Tanis had been heading. Tanis jogged after him boots tapping on the stone pavers.

"So, where did you go?"

"Hmm," Altair was fully aware of the question but didn't feel like answering directly.

"When you left earlier, what were you doing?"

"Researching my next target." The two walked down the winding streets until they reached the city wall. Tanis looked at him.

"That doesn't look like a tree to me," Tanis mocked. Altair turned right and climbed up the wall of a house.

"Try to keep up," he called standing on the roof and looking for his next move. The bricks weren't completely even and he was able to get a good enough grip to climb up to a small hole in the wall. The moon cast shadows on all the grooves and holes making it easy for him to locate his next foot hold. The only thing he could hear was his breath and that of the boy only feet below him. He was keeping up; he was out of breath but still holding on none the less. Altair looked down at Tanis smiling at him. He found the boy amusing. Tanis looked up waiting for Altair to press on; they were about half way to

the top. Altair felt the breeze blow his robes and grabbed a crack in the wall and pulled himself up the last little bit of wall. He paused checking for guards and finding none he pulled himself over the rail. It took Tanis seconds to do the same. He was panting and out of breath but he quickly caught it. Altair took a good look at the boy the moon light shining on him was better than the shadows cast from the candles of the street windows. He looked much older than 14 now that he was clean, but Altair couldn't place him exactly but he was probably only a handful of years younger. He figured the boy would look even older once he gained some muscle and weight.

"Pay attention because I don't want to pick up your dead body," Altair walked to the railing and looked down. There wasn't anything to land on directly below, but farther down was a stack of crates.

He studied the side of the wall and decided he could get low enough to land on the

crates without hurting himself. He flung his leg over the railing and looked at Tanis.

"Watch carefully, I'll be down there to help you land, but don't be stupid, just drop. Do not jump just let go of the wall," and with that he began slowly lowering himself down. One crack at a time he slowly reduced the distance of his fall. He looked up to find Tanis following his exact path. He was a little more than half way down when he let go. He dropped landing on the crates, which stung a little. He stood and watched Tanis ease down the rest of the way. The tail of Kadar's old robes flapping at his knees. He reached the last of the cracks and looked down.

"Ready," he called.

"Remember, just let go," Altair reminded him as the boy released his grip on the wall. Altair stretched out his hands. Tanis fell quickly picking up speed, and Altair had a spit second to worry exactly how heavy the kid was, before he caught him. Altair lost his balance and fell backwards off the stack of crates, with Tanis in his arms. The two crumpled on the ground, Tanis rolling several feet and Altair just laid there, his back soar from a rock he landed on. Tanis was the first to his feet, having safely used Altair as a landing pad, he dusted himself off. Altair slowly rolled to his knees groaning as a fresh shot of hot numbing pain protested his movement.

"Now, remember, that was your plan. Not mine," Tanis whispered pulling Altair to his

feet. Altair stood and his back hushed its groaning after a moment.

"Who goes there," A voice called from not far off, a guard was making his way towards

the commotion the two had made, lamp in his hand. Altair grabbed Tanis' shoulder and pushed him urging the young boy to run. Tanis complied and the two sprinted for the fields surround the city walls. The two ran for while until Altair couldn't see the city anymore. He looked over his shoulder looking for any sign of the guard, who if he had seen them, probably wasn't in the mood to chase people this late at night. Tanis plopped on the ground next to him.

"So, where is this Fig orchard," he asked.

"There," Altair pointed to a small group of trees, four standing alone in the middle of an empty field. The moon seemed even brighter out here, without any buildings to block the light. Struggling to his feet Tanis stood and began walking in the direction.

"I've never been outside the city walls or had fresh figs," Tanis explained excitedly. Altair followed silently. The two picked as many figs and Altair could fit in his pouch. Once the small bag was full the two sat down leaning against one of the trees each eating a fig. Tanis seemed to be taking in all of the surroundings, never been outside of the city, Altair thought. It seemed strange to him that someone could live in the same place all their life and never leave. He had been to so many places and done so many things, the boy would probably never believe half of it. Tanis finished his fig.

"What do you think your master will want done with me," he asked.

"I don't know," Altair said truthfully as he took another slow bite. "He won't actually kill me will he," looking at Altair concerned. Altair thought about the question for a moment before answering.

"No, well, I can't say for sure. He will either have you called back to the Brotherhood to

be trained or leave you with Malik as an errand boy, and there is the possibility you'll be

poisoned," those are the most likely possibilities. He paused before taking another bite, "How do you know about Master?"

"Books, Malik let me read some of his books, while he worked on a map," Tanis answered grabbing another fig from the tree and eating it sat back down next to Altair.

"How do we get back in? These are so much better than anything I've ever had," the

boy was running his mouth.

"Good question."

"You mean you don't know," Tanis stared at Altair horrified.

"Don't worry," Altair reassured him, calmly taking another bite. Tanis stared at him attentively before slowly sliding closer to Altair. Altair tensed his body. Tanis' hand came up slowly and he snatched for Altair's hood. Altair ducked to the side and grabbed the boy's hand, "No," he said sternly squeezing his fist for reinforcement before letting it go.

"We should probably head back, Malik will probably be looking for someone to send after me," Tanis stood and dusted himself off again. Altair looked up at him from the ground. The robes seem to work on him, maybe one day the boy would become a Master assassin himself and actually have the right to wear the robes he'd been given. Altair wondered if Tanis knew the significances of the cloth wrapped around him. Altair had a feeling that perhaps he did and if the day came, Altair would be proud to call him brother. The two walked back silently toward the city. Tanis chatted a little but Altair kept to himself as the boy babbled on about a book he read in which an assassin had managed to kill a priest who was involved in human trafficking. Tanis babbled on about how amazed he was at the assassins skill and how noble his actions had been, 'stopping such a horrible person.' When they could see the front gate Tanis stopped.

"What you think we're going to walking the front?"

"Yup," Altair replied and walked to the side of the gateway, standing out of sight. "Take these," he handed the figs to Tanis.

"Why?"

Four guards stood in front of the gate looking rather bored but still intimidating. Altair climbed the wall and slide across the front of the gate. He dropped down on a thin bar, and began swinging just feet above the guards. He swung back the forth, picking up momentum then let go and dropped with a thud. The guards turned and saw him;three of them shouted "Halt" as they all sprinted after him. Tanis watched for a second then seeing the gate freed up by Altair, he calmly strolled right in himself.

Altair sprinted hard he took an abrupt right turn down an alley. He scaled the wall and ran across the rooftops before dropping into a hay cart. The streets were empty and the guards were noisy as they ran down the alleys after him. Hiding inside the cart he could finally feel exactly how tired he was. His back hurt from landing on the rock and his legs and arms tired from climbing the walls of the city. He forced himself to stay awake until the last of the guards voices trailed off into the distance, only then did he left himself slip off.

Malik paced back and forth. It had been hours since the boy left, plenty of time for him to bathe and come back. The room was dark and he only lit one candle. He would never let that child leave this place again unsupervised. He paced back and forth before becoming tired and sitting down on the cushions in the corner. He listened intently on the rooftop for the sound of someone arriving. Finally, after almost four hours he heard the boy thump down into the small area just outside the door. He strolled in casually holding a small leather bag in one hand.

"Here," he smiled holding out the bag for Malik. Malik stood, he was furious, worried they boy had been caught, or run off.

"Where the hell did you go?"

"I was with Altair; he took me to this place outside the city. We ate figs and I brought you some back," he offered the small bag up to Malik agian. Malik's face softened and he took the bag and opened it. Inside were about half a dozen figs, smaller than normal probably not completely ripened, along with a few of Altair's throwing knifes. He made a face. Altair had given his knives to the boy and was now wondering the street without them, _what a novice_, he thought.

Author Note:

Thanks for reading. Sorry if there are random line breaks or spacing. I actually lost this document when we backed up our desktop. I didn't write it on my laptop. I was able to pull it from Deviant Art as a pdf and convert it into a open office document, so I could put it up here too. I'm going to add a few more of my pieces later on. I have a cross over of Assassins Creed and Prototype. Hopefully, you like this and will enjoy that also. Please, Please, Please, let me know how you feel about it! I want to here feed back so I can improve!

Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm heading to the market. Would you like to come," Malik asked as he pulled his blue robe on and adjusted it, easier said than done with one hand. He quickly ran his fingers through his hair to make it lay flat. Patting down his robes he turned to the young man stirring amongst a pile of pillows and blankets. Tanis groaned and rolled over on his rug in the corner of the small back room. Malik didn't have a second bed and the boy seemed pleased to have what he did. He sat up and yawned. His eyes squinted against the bright sun. He hadn't been asleep for a while, simply lying quietly enjoying the silence. Malik enjoyed that about the boy, being quiet in the morning was something he'd become accustom to since being here.

"Now," he asked rubbing his eyes clear of sleep.

"Yes, I should go before it gets to crowded or hot."

"Yeah, I'll come," the younger man rolled out of his make shift bed and reached for his white tunic. Malik would have preferred the young man sleep completely dressed, but the days and nights were getting hotter. Feeling awkward Malik left the room while the other dressed. It had been a while since the last time he'd shared a sleeping and dressing area with anyone. In fact, since Kadar's death, he hadn't at all. Come to think of it, Malik was beginning to return to his old self, slowly but surely.

When Tanis had arrived, the bureau had need a good cleaning. Dust clogged the air making it seem darker than it really was. To any outsider the bureau would appear to be nothing more than meager rundown book shop, however, upon closer inspection one might stumble across the wrong book or perhaps wonder why a book merchant needed a set of armor and weapons. The floor had been mostly bare, with the rugs stored out of the way. Malik had no intention of cleaning blood from them. Tanis had somehow managed to sneak them out and spread them over the bare cold floor. Malik took good stock of the room for some reason today. The shelves had been dusted and the floor was clean. The only sign of the bureaus original state Malik's desk, sprawled across it was his sketching supplies, ink stains and dust. Malik half smirked to himself, Tanis had been secretly cleaning around. Malik hadn't even noticed until now. It must have been close to several weeks' worth of work for one person and Malik never once noticed anything odd.

It was early morning and the city was still waking up. Most of the market would be set up but few people would be out and about. Malik preferred to shop in the morning. Everything was fresher and there was less pushing or shoving, most important to him, less staring. The sun was extremely bright today, as Malik stepped outside in the sun to wait. He squinted against the sun and placed his hand over his eyes.

"Malik! I did it! I got accepted into the brotherhood," Kadar exclaimed running across the dirt path. Malik looked toward him and was momentarily blinded by the sun. He smiled anyways and congratulated his brother.

"I figured you would. Father was a master you know." Kadar stopped inches from Malik brandishing his new robes and armor. His hidden blade already on his forearm. Kadar's face was full of excitement and pure enthusiasm. Malik was proud of his brother; regardless of the fact Kadar's acceptance had been a sure thing from the day of his birth. Kadar had the final say either way, putting forth the dedication, blood, sweat and tears the Grand Master commanded of him, of every assassin brother. Kadar stared at his new robes unable to stop grinning. He finally looked up to meet Malik's proud smile.

"I'm going to be a Master! Just like Father, you and Altair!" Malik almost cringed at the thought of Kadar becoming like Altair. Lately, he'd become arrogant and selfish. He was older than both Kadar and Malik and far more skilled. However, more and more often he'd let his status take control of him. As a result Malik and Altair had begun clashing over Altair's leadership. Malik was more afraid of Altair losing his life than losing a friend. Malik smiled anyways.

"I don't know brother. You're too naïve," Malik's reply held more than one meaning but he could see his brother didn't comprehend. It might be a while longer but that was just fine by Malik. The longer Kadar held on to his carefree self the longer Malik could also.

"Malik, are you okay," this was a voice Malik didn't recognize. He'd been so pulled into the past he'd even forgotten where he was. Malik half jumped and whipped his face with his sleeve.

"Yeah, just fine," He took a couple deep breaths to regain control and forced a smile. Tanis' eyebrow arched and he looked truly concerned. Malik knew he'd been spacing out like this more and more. It had begun about the same time Tanis had come to him. Malik wasn't sure why having the boy around made him finally cope with the loss of his brother. In a way Malik almost regretted accepting the boy into his care. It was pulling all the feelings he'd suppressed over the months back out.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I said," Malik barked. Tanis' concerned vanished and he sauntered out the archway into the shop part of the bureau.

"Whatever," he said as he walked out the door and into the street, still tying the sash. Malik flared in embarrassment and anger.

"I was not crying, you little shit-face!"

"Okay, I don't believe you but if Altair asks I saw nothing." Malik paused, how much had the boy figured out? Why was he so angry about being caught crying over his dead brother? He had a right to mourn a lost one, didn't he? What did it matter if Altair asked? It was Altair's fault after all. Malik huffed and followed Tanis down the alleyway. He studied Tanis from behind. He wasn't wearing the tunic after all and his white vest clashed greatly with his dark complexion. The clothes were fitting better thanks to the weight gain. His cuts and bruises had begun to heal nicely, thanks to Malik's medical skills. His face and hair were cleaner thanks to regular bathing. Malik was expecting a letter from the Master today; he assumed it would contain the boy's fate as well. Malik couldn't help but worry. He was such a nice young man. He had so much talent and skill to offer the brotherhood. Malik studied him a little longer; he noticed a hint of Altair's arrogance in Tanis' gate. Malik stopped walking.

"Tanis," he called calmly.

"Hmm," Tanis stopped and turned around, his black eyes soft and curious, weight placed on his back leg and shoulders firm. Malik looked him over for a second. It was confusing; he couldn't tell if it was actually arrogance he was seeing or confidence.

"Nothing," Malik smiled and continued walking. Tanis' eyebrow rose.

It was oddly strange seeing the market this empty. Tanis slipped in and out of the stalls, lifting coins here and there. Malik stood over a meat stall deciding if it was worth serving a real dinner to celebrate anything. Malik focused hard on the slabs of raw flesh. Tanis retrieved a handful of coins from a wealthy looking man's pouch before disappearing into a more crowded stall. He glanced over his shoulder toward Malik's hunched figure. He grinned mischievously and slinked toward the older man. Careful to blend in with the natural flow of the crowd Tanis slipped in behind Malik. He waited, no response, he waited a minute more, no response still. Tanis grinned and slipped his hand toward Malik's coin pouch. A flash of a hand snatched Tanis'. Malik jumped and spun around. Altair stood hunched, holding Tanis' hand aloft for Malik to see.

"Now, if I was guard, you'd be beaten on sight," Altair growled and released Tanis' hand.

"Oww, I was just testing myself. He'd need it to pay for my dinner anyways. I'd have given it back," Tanis babbled as he rubbed his wrist, which stung slightly from Altair's gloves. His face was red from embarrassment. Malik scowled and opened his mouth to chastise the youngest of the three.

"Hey, are you going to buy something or not," the merchant growled and slammed his first on the table. All three men turned on him in a second. Altair's piercing gold eyes sizing the merchant up for good measure. Malik's fiery brown staring him down, making it clear the merchant was beneath him. Tanis' irate black still sorely embarrassed and without the patients for incompetence. The merchant flinched and stuttered.

"S-sorry, take your time. You men look like you could use a good fresh piece. Here take this," he stammered and pulled a nice looking chicken from his stores behind him. Tanis' eyebrow rose. Altair and Malik's gazes softened. Altair produced a handful of coins from his purse and placed it on the table.

"Here, take this as payment," the merchant stopped babbling and looked up from the dead featherless bird he was wrapping. His jaw dropped when he saw the money placed before him.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you, very much," he quickly finished wrapping the bird and passed it over to Altair. Altair took the bird and gave it to Malik. Malik accepted it and looked up at Altair.

"Thank you novice. You should join us for dinner," Malik turned and calmly walked away. Any anger he'd had towards either Tanis or Altair was simply gone. Tanis stood beside Altair a moment watching the other leave.

"What happened between you two," he finally broke the silence. Altair didn't answer. Tanis' crossed his arms and looked over his shoulder at the taller man. He was forced to look up. Whatever Altair was feeling the shadows over his cowl were hiding it. Tanis' sighed.

"We should hear from the master today. You should join us. It looks like he is planning a nice dinner regardless of the contents of the letter. Perhaps a congratulatory gift or a good bye gift," Tanis chuckled sorrowfully at the later. Altair turned his shadowed face to the young boy who was now wondering away toward Malik.

It was late afternoon and Altair was strolling toward the bureau. He was invited tonight after all. No way was he going to give up the food he'd paid for after all. Truth be told he missed Malik's cooking. He wasn't an amazing cook but it was always the thought behind it that made Altair's stomach growl. The idea that someone cared to make sure he was properly fed. Nowadays, Malik could have served him weeds in boiling water and Altair would just be happy to be in Malik's good graces again. How long had it been since Malik had last offered to cook for him? Was it months or weeks before Solomon's Temple? Altair and Malik had been on short terms with each other before the faithful day. Malik wasn't satisfied with the example he was setting for the younger Al-Sayf. Altair lingered on this though for a moment. Malik had been right all along. Altair had become a wicked monster, part of him knew it then but now it haunted is very being. Then he had killed without reason. Then he had killed just to feel the power over his victim, Allah help any man who stepped in his path back then. The idea, of that man he once was, made Altair sick to the stomach. How many of his Brothers had looked up to him for being a ruthless killer? How many of them couldn't see the real Altair behind that biting blade? Malik had and Malik had even tried to save him from himself. Instead, Altair had chalked it up to insubordination and jealousy.

It didn't matter tonight was a chance to show Malik how much he'd changed. Altair swore to himself that he would bite his tongue and mind his manners, regardless. The street wondered aimlessly beneath his feet, forgotten were the people around him. That was until, the foul smell of human sweat and then a crash of metal on stone pavers. Altair lost his balance and tumbled backwards to the street, landing half on his butt and feet.

"I'm sorry," It was completely unlike Altair to just blindly walk into someone. Altair scrambled to his feet and held his hand out to help up the other man, when he stopped immediately. He began mentally cursing himself for being unaware of his surroundings. The other man was a Templar Guard. It was possible he had seen Altair's face and was would now alert the others to his presence in the city. Altair would have to take his life or endanger the brotherhood once again.

"I should cut you up and feed you to the wild dogs, idiot," he was fuming as he too scrambled to his feet, knocking away Altair's offered help. The man began dusting himself off before looking up to meet Altair's gaze. By the time he did Altair was already heading in the other direction.

"Hey, get back here," the guard commanded, "I demand an apology or I will throw you to the dogs!" Altair kept walking as if nothing had a happened.

"Assassin," the guard bellowed. Altair lowered his head and shoulders and began sprinting. He brushed past a woman caring some pots. She panicked and dropped her load. It wasn't long before three more guards joined chase. Altair could hear their thundering foot steps behind him as he darted down the street, heart pounding in his chest.

"Get back here and we might let you live," one of them shouted out of breath. Altair ducked into an alley and down another. Seeing as stack of crates he sprinted up them and on to the rooftops. A confused archer shouted for him to get down but Altair paid him no mind. He kept sprinting. Below him the guards began shouting curses after him. The Archer drew his bow and arrow but Altair vaulted an alley just to return to the streets. The arrow sored across the alley and to a sandstone wall and stuck there. Altair jogged slowly down the alley. The slower he moved the easier it would be to locate a hiding place. He spotted a small gathering of people gossiping out of the way. He ducked in with them. He immediately began quieting his breath and calming his heart. A young women raised her brow at his sudden appearance but shut her mouth when the guards came sprinting past.

"Where'd he go," one guard was yelling but no one answered. They group continued down the street searching for nothing. Altair nodded his thanks to the women and left the group.

The rest of the trip was seemingly calm besides the occasional beggar or drunken idiot pestering him. The sun was still in the sky but would begin setting soon as the sky was beginning to turn a deep orange. Altair stepped into the door of bureau off the street. It was calm. Only the dripping of water from the fountain and the scratching of Malik's quill could be heard. There was a shuffling of feet and Tanis appeared in the door way. Altair was sure he'd been silent upon entering. A broad smile was plastered across his face and there was a twinkle in his eye that Altair hadn't seen before.

"Welcome Altair," It was oddly relaxing to be greeted in such a manner and Altair had missed it greatly. He felt he didn't deserve such kindness anymore but he was still grateful.

"Thank you, Tanis," Altair returned pleasantly, letting the ghost of a smile grace his scared lips. It had been Kadar who last greeted Altair in such a way and it made his heart ache. The boy disappeared into the bureau and Altair followed. It was brighter, cleaner, and less of a back alley book shop and more of a home than his last visit. There was also the strong smell of spices and meat simmering somewhere out of his sight. The aromas made his mouth water and his stomach began to twist as it recalled the familiar smells, and memories, of Malik's cooking. Altair's eyes flittered around the room taking in all the changes. They finally settled in on Malik himself, he was sitting with his back to them focused on a map.

"Malik, Altair is here; Perhaps it's time for a break," Tanis coaxed. Malik grumbled something incomprehensible and set his quill aside and turn to face them. His face was less irritated than normal and he seemed almost pleased to see Altair.

"Before we begin I want to make it clear. We are celebrating for Tanis nothing else. It would be a waste of food for just the two of us to enjoy it," Malik informed Altair.

"Celebrating? Does that mean Tanis was accepted into the brotherhood?"

"Yes, and no," Malik gestured to the parchment on the desk beside him. "You see because he isn't a member of a blood line that we know of. He cannot join the brotherhood. However, that doesn't stop us from using him to our potential. The master as granted me permission to do with him as I see fit," Malik eyed Tanis fondly as a Master would his apprentice. Tanis stood half awkwardly under Malik's gaze. Altair could see the boy wasn't use to praise or anything that even resembled fond feelings. Altair smiled.

"That is good. He has a place to sleep and good food to eat," Altair said remembering his recalled memories from earlier. He half wondered if Malik would notice the compliment. He shifted his gaze from the boy to the man. Malik was eyeing him with one eyebrow arched, he had.

"Yes, well, I have already begun cooking the food. It is in the back simmering," he lifted his lone hand and gestured to the backroom. "- Should be done soon. It's just a simple chicken stew with beans."

"Anything you cook is good enough for me," Altair blurted before thinking. Tanis' gaze shifted up to Altair's.

"Is he that good of a cook? Then why have I been doing all the work," the boy glared at Malik.

"Because, you need to learn to contribute, and I mean more than just rearranging my records so I can't find anything," Malik retorted gesturing openly to the room around them. Tanis continued glaring at Malik, his one hand on his hip and knee locked. He half looked like and angry house wife, Altair was sure he felt like one. Tanis let out a slow half audible grumble.

"Oh, go set up some place for us to eat," Malik said using his only hand to shoo the boy. Tanis huffed and stomped into the back room.

"You seem to have taken accustom to him," Altair smiled.

"Shut up," Malik returned to his work, his smile was gone and he was as spiteful as ever. Altair frowned; he'd hoped that maybe things had begun to change between them but why would they? Instead, it was simply an act for Tanis' sake. Altair pushed his hood back and let it fall to his shoulders revealing his brown hair and golden eyes. The ever present scar on his lips seemed to add to pain on his face. He sighed and pulled his robe off and set on one of the empty shelves. He also removed his weapons and placed them out of the way. The room really was far more pleasant. Malik continued scratching his quill on the parchment paper finishing his map. In the backroom Tanis could be heard shuffling around. Feeling awkward and unwelcome Altair decided to lend the boy a hand and headed to the back room. Tanis stood hunched in a corner with a stack of pillows and a rich rug hung over one arm. He bent to pick up another pillow and lost the stack. He half growled and stomped his foot and set about picking them up. Altair smiled and crouched to aid him. The pillows were new to Altair. They were richly decorated in various shades of red and gold. Tanis stood and began walking into the main room.

"Malik, the food is going to burn," Tanis said as he laid out the rug and tossed the pillows around it. He went into the room and returned with a short table which he placed in the middle of the rug. He took the pillows Altair was still holding and dispersed them around the table. Despite Tanis' warning Malik was still hunched over his map. Tanis stood and examined his work with a half pleased smirk. He looked over to Malik's desk and glowered.

"Hey, Altair you smell that? It smells like burnt chicken," Tanis sniffed the air a few times. To Altair's surprise instead of getting pissed and snapping at the boy, Malik set his quill down and stood up.

"Alright, Alright, You ass," Malik adjusted his robes and entered the backroom. Proud of his success, Tanis flopped down on one of the cushions and lounged there. Altair sat across from him on a pillow. The table was made of a sturdy wood and had Arabic Symbols carved into the grain for added detail.

"Where did these come from," I don't remember them. Tanis looked at him from across the table.

"I bought them with some of the money I lifted off a generously dressed merchant a few days ago. Malik doesn't enjoy my past time but it brings in more money than his scribe and book store." Suddenly the smell of spices and chicken wafted into the room stronger than before. The food could be heard cooking in the next room mixed with occasional metal clang of utensils. Altair's stomach growled loudly and Tanis laughed heartily.

It wasn't much longer until Malik joined them only after he had loaded the table with more food than Altair was sure the three could eat in one meal. Tanis immediately spotted a plate full of what appeared to be little rolls of bread with a nut on top.

"Are those-," he blurted eagerly and reached for one. Malik snatched his hand and grinned.

"Those are for desert, silly boy," he dropped Tanis' hand, who rolled his eyes. Malik began serving each of them a small bowl full of chicken stew. He set Tans' down in front of him and passed him a spoon to eat with. Tanis took the spoon but waited for Malik to finish serving his and Altair's to eat. No one spoke as they ate, it was custom. Altair watched Tanis eat slowly and more civil than he expected from someone who had been living on the streets. He glanced across at Malik as he placed a spoonful of chicken into his own mouth. Malik's brown eyes were suspiciously eying the younger boy. Typical Altair thought, Malik had probably spent the last week or so scolding the boy's manners. It was just like Malik to educate his brother, so why should it surprise him to do the same with Tanis? Tanis shoveled another spoonful of stew into his mouth a little sloppily and received a disapproving glare from Malik. Altair couldn't help but smile. Tanis returned the look and continued eating. The food was better than Altair remembered. The stew was rich and filling. The spices complimented the other ingredients nicely.

The main course of the meal passed in silence. Tanis was the first to finish his bowl.

"Would you like another bowl," Malik asked after finishing his bite.

"No, thanks," Tanis replied leaning back on his cushion, eyeing the butter knots (+) at the other end of the table.

"When everyone else is done…"

"I know," Tanis grumbled. Altair chuckled and finished his last bite.

"Would you like some more," Altair was surprised at the question. He had fully expected Malik to ignore him the rest of the meal.

"No, Thank you," Altair managed to reply. Tanis sat up eagerly staring at Malik.

"Yes, good riddance. I will never let you know I have them again. This boy has bothered me since I bought them," Malik rolled his eyes and passed the plate of cookies to Tanis. Tanis grinned and snatched one and began to eat it.

"Well sorry," he managed before stuffing his face. Altair grinned and took a cookie from the plate himself. Malik glowered at Tanis' manners before giving up and taking one himself.

The room had been steadily growing darker with the setting sun outside, Altair noted and wondered if Malik would use this as an excuse to rid himself of Altair's presence. However, to Altair's pure delight Malik stood and began lighting the handful of candles around the room. Tanis smiled behind another butter knot and struck up a friendly conversation with Altair. Malik rejoined them smiling. The three spent the remainder of the cookies in pleasant conversation, joking and singing when Tanis started up an old childhood song. It wasn't until the early morning that Malik finally put an end to the merit and actually sent the mostly grown men to bed. Altair consented to his wished more than happy with the days events.

Malik was the first to rise as usual. The sun was still low and the light was just barely trickling into the back room. Malik sat up and yawned taking in the morning air and stretching. Kicking the blankets from his legs he struggled out of bed, and stretched again. Tanis lay in the opposite corner still asleep. Malik could just barely hear him breathing. Pulling his pants off the corner of the bed and over one leg and then the other, he dropped back on to the bed to pull them the rest of the way up. He arched his back and slid them over his butt and hips. He quickly fastened them and stood again. He'd wait to find a shirt but for now it was nice outside. He left the back room and entered the main portion of the bureau. The table and cushions still sat in the middle of the floor but the food had been put away. In the far corner of the room lay a new group of cushions and a rug.

Malik was about to being preparing for the day when he stopped. Lying amongst the pillows in the corner was a muscular young man with sun kissed skin and hair to match. His face was in bad need of shaving and his lips shown the almost attractive scar down the left side. Malik smirked; Altair had decided to stay the night after all this time refusing. He resisted the urge to walk over and kick the other man sharply in the ribs. Instead, he civilly walked over and bent down next to him. He wasn't snoring in the slightest bit but Malik could see his chest rise and fall calmly. He looked peaceful, not the violent savage he had become over the years. Malik studied him a moment, he missed the Altair from last night. Without thinking he moved his hand over the other's face and down his stubble chin. Gold eyes flickered open and barely focused in on Malik. Malik jerked his hand away and improvised an excuse.

"Novice, wake up," Malik said gently shaking the half awake assassin. Altair grunted and rolled away.

"To comfy," and he was asleep again. Malik rolled his eyes and stood to walk away. Malik couldn't be mean to him. Not when he hadn't done anything wrong yesterday. In fact, yesterday had been incredibly pleasant, very reminiscent of the times before Altair had been named a Master Assassin, before he had let his status go to his head. Malik sighed and decided to begin setting up shop for the day and to let the others sleep in. They had been up till extreme hours of the night and despite Malik's hatred of Altair he couldn't bring himself to be narcissistic bastard today, not after such a pleasant night. Malik paused at that thought, was it truly hatred? Malik thought about it a moment longer as he studied the man in question from afar. All this time, he had placed the whole blame of his brother's death on Altair. He had been too angry to accept it was partly his fault. In his heart he'd known of course but his brain never once filtered the idea. Malik had been a stronger assassin he might have been able to save his brother, to out rule Altair's arrogance.


	3. Chapter 3

Malik hunched over his desk. It was a hot day, possibly the hottest yet and it made Malik extra irritable. As such, the Bureau was empty minus himself and his collection of books and scrolls. Tanis was out running errands for Malik, collecting food from the market, delivering letters to Assassins, probably stealing coin from wealthy merchants. He had been gone since the sun rose, Malik had seen to that. He fully expected Altair to return today with the first part of his assignment completed and this annoyed him to no end. Today he would arrive with the information necessary to bring down Talal the Slave Master.

"Safety and Peace, Malik," Altair called from the door frame.

"Your presence here deprives me of both," Malik grumbled, this felt more like a ritual than a actual discussion. "What do you want?"

"I have completed my research."

"So, be out with it," Malik half growled the command.

"Very, well, here is what I know," answered Altair. "The Target is Talal, who traffics in human lives, kidnapping Jerusalem's citizens and selling them into slavery. His base is a warehouse located inside the barbican north of here. As we speak, he prepares a caravan for travel. I'll strike while he's inspecting his stock. If I can avoid his men, Talal himself should prove little challenge," he finished. Malik sneered and wheeled around to face the novice.

"Little challenge! Listen to you! Such arrogance!"

Altair glared at Malik. His face was mixed with emotion that Malik couldn't read, but none of it mattered. This was a condemned man in Malik's eyes. What had he been thinking days ago when he had allowed him to share a meal with his apprentice.

"Are we finished? Are you satisfied with what I have learned," Altair was biting his tongue now, Malik could see hurt in his eyes. Good.

"No, but it will have to do," he wrenched his desk open and produced a white feather which he handed over to Altair. Altair took the feather and placed it carefully within his robes. He turned and made for the door hesitating, looking over his shoulder his mouth hung open then shut abruptly. That was the last Malik was to see of Altair that month.

Long after Altair had gone Malik watched the door. It was several hours before the bells began the death tole. Tanis had since returned several times leaving notes and taking some with him. Once he brought Malik a piece of cake, it sat untouched. The look on Altair's face before he left haunted Malik. The pain hidden behind those fierce eyes had finally broken through. Altair could feel pain again, not just the physical kind but the emotional kind. Instead of defending himself against Malik's bombardment of insults he had taken it, just stood there and taken it. When the bells finally went up Malik braced himself. He fully expected to hear Altair come rushing in horrible mess and in desperate need of medical attention but he didn't. He did not return. The bells rang for a while then silence filled the bureau once more. The front door open and closed. The shuffling of feet and panting breath came from the court yard. Malik jumped to his feet and rushed to the door. Tanis stood leaning against the wall arms loaded with a box of scrolls that appeared to be extremely heavy. Malik felt his heart sink.

"I'm going out for a while," Malik told the dumbfounded Tanis.

"You, can't just leave me hear with these. What am I to do with them," Tanis shouted but Malik was already out the door pulling his blue robe over his shoulders.

That night Malik wondered the streets anxiously eavesdropping. Malik picked a pair of guards and wondered over to a bench rest. The guards were gossiping about something astonishing. In the center of the market a fountain trickled rhythmically and Malik pretended to enjoy its beauty.

"He cut the man down in the middle of the street. Broad daylight and just left him there," the first guard gushed.

"Well, what do you suppose happened to the Assassin," the second asked.

"Witnesses say he just disappeared afterwords. Just up and vanished in thin air."

"That's not possible, someone had to have seen him leaving, it was the middle of the road!"

"One women who was knocked down in the pursuit said the men exchanged words before the Assassin finished him off and disappeared. She said she was to afraid to stick around and so she fled."

Signing in relief Malik stood and began a slow walk back to his Bureau, accepting that Altair was far from condemned in his heart. Altair didn't return that night and so Malik assumed he had returned directly to Masyaf, to the Grand Master.

All the candles were out when Malik finally made it back to the bureau. Somewhere off in the distance a bird cried out alone. Malik looked up at the side of the bureau and before he could stop himself he was already scaling it. It was harder than he remembered and his muscles protested strongly. Hand over feet Malik hauled himself up over the top of the wall. It was only one story from this side but it felt like twenty. There were no windows and Malik was forced to work quickly with his hand. Finding small holes to grip and pulling himself up with his feet. Finally, Malik's hand gripped the roof and he pushed himself up waste above the edge. Leaning forward he swung first his right leg over and then rolled. Laying on his back panting out of breath he watched the night sky. He could feel the sweat dripping down his neck and the ache of his muscles as they relaxed for a moment. The sky light was still open and Malik could hear the fountain with its constant trickle. Water sounded good and he licked his dry lips. He closed his eyes a moment. He was horribly out of shape and in bad need of exercise. Tomorrow, Tanis would begin hand to hand combat training. He grinned it was a perfect excuse.

"Get your hands up," Malik grumbled as he corrected Tanis' posture. "You are such a novice."

"Thanks for noticing," Tanis snorted and spread his feet a little wider, Malik kicked him in the ankles leaving him no choice. He flinched.

"If you don't keep your stance wide and low your enemy can over power you and you'll end up on your ass," Malik scowled him. "Now come at me like your going to kill me," Malik walked away a few steps and took up a defensive stance himself. Tanis just watched dumbfounded.

"What?"

"Just do it," Malik snapped. Tanis shrugged his shoulders and lunged forward, launching a right fist at Malik's face. Malik knocked it away, with his good arm, dlike it was a bug and kneed Tanis in the gut.

"Urg-AH," Tanis squawked and doubled over. "The-hell," he breathed.

"What did you think I was going to let you hit me?" Tanis groaned and tried to stand up. Malik smiled at least he wasn't to big a brat. Malik smiled and gestured for Tanis to try again. Tanis nodded and lunged again. Malik yet again swatted his hand away and aimed for his stomach. Tanis side stepped at the last second. Malik had just enough time to read and block. Tanis' foot came up at Malik's face, throwing both arms up across his face. Tanis' leg made solid contact but Malik grabbed his foot and gave it a good tug. Tanis was thrown off balance and fell backwards. He toppled backwards, tucking his chin to protect the back of his head and landed on the ground with a thump. The kid was better than he expected.

The two continued well into the late afternoon. Malik soon realized just how out of shape he really was. However, it felt good to return to old habits, to relearn everything again. He could feel his muscles recall years of training as he and Tanis sparred that afternoon. It was really training for both men. Malik recalling everything and teaching it to Tanis. He always wondered how the teachers at the fortress managed to maintain their own training, now Malik understood. It was amazing to feel his power returning and he could actually fell himself smiling again.

Malik leaned against the edge of the fountain and sucked in a deep breath of air. His tunic was sticking to his chest and back and his lungs burned. Every part of him felt like it was jello and his chest and face smarted where Tanis had managed a few solid punches. His hair was plastered to his head and face. Beside him, Tanis dipped his hands into the water and washed a nasty looking cut on his lip, then gulped down several large handfuls of water. His hair was also plastered to his face and neck from sweat and Malik could see the ring down his back.

"We should go bathe and pick up fresh meat for dinner," Malik smiled looking over his shoulder at the younger man. Tanis just nodded and swallowed another palm full of water. He stood and began using his tunic to fan himself.

"Is that what you and Altair went through for years," Tanis asked calmly leaning against the stone wall of the courtyard. "This feels good," he smiled pressing his back to the cold stone. Malik nodded in response.

Malik could smell the sweet perfumes of the hammam long before they arrived. Tanis was walking beside him complaining about a potential scar in his cheek and the scab forming on his bottom lip.

Malik was barely listening. He could hear the odd mumble of the boy's voice and somewhere in the back of his mind it filtered in but nothing reached. He was thinking of errands for Tanis. It would be more practical use to have the boy able to accomplish more than market errands. Perhaps he would be useful with eavesdropping or put his pickpocketing to use. The door to the hammam was looming into view now and Tanis had stopped babbling, realizing Malik really didn't care. The two made their way in and immediately paused both dumbfounded. The hammam was completely deserted. Not a single soul was manning the counter.

"Hello," Malik called but no one responded at least not at first.

"Sorry, you can go on back," a man's voice replied from one of the back rooms. Malik hesitated.

"Are you sure," he asked.

"Yes, I just spilled some of my supplies on the floor. There is scented oil everywhere." Malik waited a moment longer. How odd it was for the entire hammam to be empty at this hour. "Where is everyone," he asked.

"Some public execution," the man replied.

"I'm sorry," Malik probed.

"The regent Majd Addin. Without Salah Al'din in command of the city, he has taken upon himself to take charge. He hold public executions to scare the people into obeying him. He claims to be saving them from themselves."

"Thank you, brother," Malik ushered Tanis into the next room. He could send Tanis into the city tomorrow to gather more information on this new turn of events.

"We aren't actually going to bathe together," Tanis asked almost disgusted.

"What are you hiding something," Malik smirked and sunk into the hot water. He could almost see Tanis flush and indignantly ripped his clothes of, tossing them, even with his eyes closed.

"My back aches," Tanis groaned as he pulled his tunic off and tossed it beside Malik's pile of soiled clothes.

"Then perhaps you should stop complaining and get in. The water feels great," Malik laughed and relaxed. He kept his eyes closed knowing Tanis would be pissed beyond reconcile if he thought Malik was invading his privacy. Instead, Malik let his head fall backwards against the wall of the bath. He heard Tanis jump into the water and felt a rather large wave slap him across the face. He sat up abruptly and glowered at the boy. Tanis stood at the opposite end of the bath with a wide grin on his face. He was standing about waste deep. Unlike Malik and Altair's body, he wasn't littered with battle scars. Malik found himself wondering if that was how Kadar's skin had been.

"What, I was just doing as I was instructed," Tanis laughed. Malik glowered harder and relented. Tanis ducked under the water soaking his hair and came up rubbing the water from his eyes. Malik closed his eyes once more. "Do you know the man who owns this," Tanis' voice interrupted Malik's peace once again.

"Yes," he grumbled. There was a moment of silence.

"Well," Tanis demanded. Malik chewed on his lip before answering.

"He is a member of the Order," Malik grumbled.

"Why is he here," Tanis pressed. Malik groaned and sat up.

"People talk when they think they are alone. Doesn't it make sense to have one of our men here," Malik explained exasperated. Tanis seemed to maul this over for a bit. His curiosity satisfied for the moment but Malik knew better. He waited, he knew the boy wasn't finished with him.

"So, how is this information used?"

"I don't think this is the place for such a conversation," Malik grinned and leaned against the wall having successfully ended the conversation.


End file.
